Between the Sheets

It was a lazy afternoon. My curls were sticking to my forehead as we sat in his studio, trying to find something to keep us busy between jobs. Like any artist, his studio was decorated with the breadwinning jobs: weddings, senior portraits, and sorority functions. They weren’t his passion; he loved doing artistic photography.

He was browsing his portfolio online when he called me over to see a shot he had taken at the recent modeling convention he’d attended. I had been asked to go, but as always, politely declined; it would be unseemly for us to attend together. Unprofessional.

Didn’t matter that there was an unspoken heat between us. Didn’t matter.

The shot was lovely, with a slender blonde silhouetted in a doorway. He had an eye for the curves of a woman, and he had the skill of making any woman feel like she was the only one in the room. Being cut from the same cloth, I knew his mode of operandi.. he was a player. I was too. We were good at what we did.

As he flipped to the next shot, a pop-up invaded the screen, advertising HOT WOMEN WITH LIVE CUM SHOTS AND REAL ORGASMS. “They’re never real,” he sighed, and started to click it closed.

“Wait, wait, WAIT,” I interrupted. “How in the hell can you tell what’s real and what’s not? Especially online?” My eyes met his. That heat bounced between us again. I had challenged him.

“I’ll show you,” he breathed, not moving his gaze.

The mouse opened the pop-up to full-screen, where a woman was spread-eagle on a bed. “Now watch,” he said, moving the pointer to her pussy. “First of all, she’s not even wet.” He circled her clit with the arrow. “Second of all, she’s screaming like a banshee, but do you see any contractions? I see no contractions.” He leaned in, taking a closer look. “Her back isn’t arched at all. She could be sleeping, for all we know.” He sat back in his chair, proud of himself.

“Show me a real one,” I demanded. He looked at me as if I had just given him the permission he would never get, and I clarified, “..online.”

He resigned to the challenge like a scolded puppy, and feverishly began clicking through the various thumbnails provided on this website. He inhaled sharply and said, “Here. Here’s the real one. Remember all those things that I said to look for in the other one? The contractions? The breathing? The wetness? Watch.”

I sat close enough to him that his arm barely brushed against mine, and the lady on the screen began her show. Her pussy began to pulse, as her body moved in waves in collaboration. Her back flew into an arch and her breathing became shallow as she rode in ecstasy. And something I hadn’t imagined; she ejaculated.

We both sat quietly, staring at the still image. At that point, the phone rang, and errands called me away.

There are still times, to this day, where I will be alone with my vibrator, spread-eagle on a bed, and think about the various steps as they happen. I cherish the small waves that build into the tsunami that causes my entire body to convulse, and I relish losing control as my back arches with pleasure.

And, I imagine, you yourself will notice the various phases tonight, as you take your turn.

Sweet dreams.

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